I-Pod Therefore I Am

The great Western philosopher Descartes wrote that “there is a deceiver of supreme power and cunning who is deliberately and constantly deceiving me.”

I think it might be Steve Jobs.

I simply could not exist without my iPod. And truthfully I’d like to think the iPod can’t live without me either, as our histories are intrinsically synced. You see, I hit the market as a single chicken right about the same time the iPod hit the mainstream. There we were, both launching ourselves into uncharted territory, wondering what fate had in store for us. A suburban mom and an MP3 player, repackaged and ready to change the world. The iPod and I were partners in crime, armed with nothing more than a 99-cent song in our hearts and big dreams for the future.

Except the iPod actually had a multi-million dollar advertising budget while I just had match.com and some hand-me-down self help books. But nonetheless! We were all charged up and ready to play.

I received my first iPod as a cheer-up-during-the-divorce present. It was a great influence right from the start. I stopped stealing music from Napster and Limewire and started paying for it fair and square. I stopped smoking (eventually) and obsessively started making custom playlists. I stopped crying and started creating a new soundtrack for the happy new life that was just beyond my reach. The new tunes tricked me into feeling happy until I actually became happy, sort of a chicken and the egg thing. I loved my iPod. It was as if I’d hit the clickwheel of fortune.

Slowly but surely my family has joined the cult as well, each for very separate reasons. Two years ago Little Chick got a Nano for Christmas so she could collect the colored iPod cases and little clothes for her iDog. Last year my mom got an iPod so she could order some fancy red speakers from Switzerland that matched the new décor in her house. But she wouldn’t touch her new little Nano for several weeks as if she had some sort of iPod postpartum depression. So I had to teach my dad how to use it so he would in turn teach her. Up until then my dad vociferously doubted the merit of an iPod, but once he realized you could find the most obscure western tunes and versions of jazz songs no one else had, he was a believer. For a man who’s never stepped foot in a mall, he now goes regularly to check on the latest accessories at the Apple store.

This past weekend we gave my grandmother an iPod for Christmas. As she opened it, Little Chick said, “Mimi, you’re going to love it. It’s like a whole way of life.” Mimi was just flattered we thought she could figure it out. And she caught on remarkably fast. But really, you haven’t lived until you’ve tried to teach your grandmother how to navigate iTunes with your mother and your daughter sitting on either side correcting everything you say. Four generations of iPods in one room – now that’s a lot to download.

I’ve been through several versions of the iPod -- the original classic, a shuffle, and a Nano. Apple keeps dropping new product designs on my head, and much like the force of gravity, I simply can’t resist. This weekend my family surprised me with the new iPod Touch and I am over the moon. Forget a fancy technology review on the capabilities of the device – I am going to look like a badass in public! Yesterday morning I loaded up Little Chick so we would arrive at her school early. I rationalized that we needed to go into the Starbucks across the street to get a latte for her teacher, but really I just wanted to be seen in there during the morning rush with my new iPod Touch. Now granted there was a 12-year old little girl at the table next to me with her new iPod Touch and she was kind of stealing my thunder, but hey, I still had the magic Touch. And in the spirit of the great Southern philosopher Forrest Gump…Cool Is As Cool Does.

I’m sure self-help authors around the world would cry out in horror at my materialistic version of self-worth, but the syllogistic argument simply holds up: The iPod Touch is cool, and I have an iPod Touch, ergo I am cool.